The Dragon Slayer
by Watcher321
Summary: Minecraftia has lived in peace for many centuries, but after the barrier holding back the dragon was broken, a band of characters unsure about their path but steadfast in their goal must search for the only solution to the destruction: The Dragon Slayer.
1. Chapter 1

Greetings, one and all! I'm sorry I've gone off the radar a little bit, I stumbled upon this old story of mine and I thought it would tide you over until the next chapter of Spawn, which will be posted in the next few days. Please review and feel free to offer suggestions of any sort :)

(P.S New people, you should go check out Spawn on my page)

 **(Upon editing this I have realized it's uncannily like Minecraft Story Mode… this was written long before. I promise it's one hundred percent original.)**

 **The Dragon Slayer**

Atrin groaned as he hauled himself up the last few rocks, feeling keenly the distance between himself and the ground. Below him the rest of his little "party" were faring similarly, stories above the hard-packed earth.

Flopping onto his stomach at the top, the blonde rolled onto his back and sighed in relief, watching the fluffy white clouds float past. The sun was beginning to dip towards that end of the sky that nobody in minecraft really appreciated: west.

After a few minutes Atrin sat up, hugging his knees for support as he looked out over the flat vista of trees and plain. Out here in the wilderness, one could almost forget why they had walked this far, why they were scaling cliffs and mountains. One could almost forget the chaos back home. The only reminders were the faintest plumes of smoke on the horizon, smudging the direction they had come.

Well, not the only reminder. Atrin reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled photograph, bent and peeling on the edges. He looked on the faces of his family, all blonde-haired with round faces and warm, clean smiles. They were faded and discolored by sweat and hands, but in Atrin's mind they were as vivid as they day they died. Anger began to boil in his chest as he looked at their smiles. Quickly he stuffed the picture back into his pocket, checking carefully it was secure.

"Don't forget, we're doing this for them." Atrin whipped around to fix a glare on the speaker, a woman wearing a simple cap, from which poured vibrant red hair. As she spoke she was sipping from a canteen.

"I know that, Marie." He scowled, rising to his feet and replacing his pack on his shoulders as the rest of the crew reached the summit. He gave each of them a glare, ensuring nobody else would try to tell him what he already knew.

They weren't a motley cast of characters, as any cliche fantasy would have you believe. Of all five of them, every one came from a hard-working profession, each one with the skills they needed to help find what they agreed was the only solution.

The DragonSlayer.

As they descended the mountain Atrin's mind wandered. By now walking was a tedious chore, climbing more so. It was nearly impossible not to be overcome by flashbacks, and each member of the group was aware the others were experiencing it too. You just didn't forget the things they had seen.

Homes completely destroyed in seconds, skyscrapers crashing around them. Some, like Atrin, had seen their families torn apart before their eyes. Other lost theirs in the unnatural purple flames. Some knew their loved ones were alive and depending on them, and some had heard from strangers that they were killed by the endermen that followed the dragon in swarms.

The dragon. It was the size of a house and destroyed anything in its path. The flames it breathed could melt flesh in an instant, and its claws were fearsome talons that picked up and carried away its victims, never to be seen again. When it charged the unfortunate souls in its path were tossed stories in the air, and rarely survived the fall.

The dragon wasn't supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to exist. According to Melvin, the aged, white-haired man walking on Atrin's left, the dragon was part of an old legend and had been destroyed millennia ago, never to return.

It was all a truckload's worth of lies. The dragon was real, had never been destroyed, and had indeed returned; and it wrecked havoc when it did.

Fortunately for Atrin and his companions, Melvin's knowledge was deep and his obsession whole. According to him, there was a man by the name of the DragonSlayer, who still existed today and would help them in their time of need. Now they followed an erratically spinning compass with odd runes inscribed on the side, trusting that the word of a storyteller in a lab coat it would show them the way.

(Yes, they were desperate.)

Atrin loathed this part of his daily mental recollection. It reminded him over and over that he was failing them all. He felt they would simply walk in erratic lines until they died.


	2. Chapter 2

One week of treacherous cliffs and sore heels later, Atrin was becoming more and more frustrated. They had long left the mountains behind and now walked in a peaceful glade of flowers that stretched several chunks. With the birds chirping and the lovely scent of violets constantly hanging in the air, it was almost unbelievable to think of the destruction they had left behind. The destruction they were going to stop. As the dying sunlight cast golden colors over the vibrant array of reds, yellows and blues, Atrin stopped.

"Do any of you hear that?" He cupped a hand to his ear as he spoke.

"Hear what?" Asked Lucas, the make-shift leader of their band. He took charge one day and nobody had questioned him since. He certainly looked like a leader, strong with a black, no-longer-well-kept goatee and a camouflage vest. Even if Lucas hadn't looked the part, he still acted it.

"Water." Atrin replied. Unsure what this meant, but trusting of the urge that pulled his feet and the solid rock in his gut, Atrin veered off the path and deeper into the woods. The others looked to Lucas, who shrugged and followed.

It was indeed water, the constant roar that a waterfall makes as it crashes into a gorge. Strangely enough, there was no such thing to be found, not even a cliff. The trees stretched tall and watching on perfectly flat ground in every direction. At the edge of a large clearing sat a decrepit old village.

"Probably abandoned." Isabell, a lovely girl with blonde hair similar to Atrin's mentioned.

"Certainly looks like it." Atrin muttered. "Come on." Wading carefully through a field of daisies, which oddly contradicted the tense atmosphere, the adventurers drew their swords as Lucas took the lead.

The sound of rushing water led directly to the center of the village, and, though muffled, reached its peak when they approached the well.

"What?" Atrin said aloud, leaning over the edge to examine the calm, perfectly still water. "What _is_ this!?" Suddenly he realized that his curiosity was probably fruitless, and his eyes lit up in rage.

"You stupid well!" He howled at the mysteriously noisy water. Leaning back onto his heels, Atrin looked to see that the entire group had gathered around Melvin in a tight circle. "What is it?" He growled, thoroughly annoyed that they weren't trying to figure out where the waterfall was.

"The compass." Somebody said in awe. Pushing his way to the center, Atrin stopped and stared. In Melvin's palm the compass sat, it's needle glowing white and spinning erratically, as if it couldn't decide which way to go.

Just then the last sliver of sunlight dipped below the horizon, and the doors of the seemingly abandoned huts began to open.

"ZOMBIES!" Lucas was the first to shout the warning, and Atrin was the next to draw his sword. From every doorway in sight poured more of the undead than should have been possible. Several were in armor, mostly helmets, and carried weapons. Atrin saw the telltale glow of enchantment here and there.

There were far too many to fight, and they could all sense that. Bunched tightly together, the group slowly inched their way towards the well and the sound of water that droned in their ears.

Atrin had half a second to realize that the zombies should have come out the minute they stepped foot in the village. It was almost as if they had been waiting to set up an ambush… were they getting smarter? Then Marie shouted.

"Jump!" She shouted.

"What!?"

"In the well, jump!"

"Why?" Isabell questioned.

"Just trust me, jump!"

Melvin needed no further encouragement. The minute the first zombie lunged with its hoe, he was over the side of the well and lost beneath the deceptively still water. Like horses caught in a storm, the rest of the herd was close behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Bubbles filled Atrin's mouth and he closed it tightly, holding his breath for as long as he could as he felt himself plummeting in a continuous stream of water. Just when he felt he'd have to take a lungful of the treacherous liquid, the current rolled him under and his knees scraped a rocky bottom. Pushing up, Atrin exploded out of the surface to find his companions already waiting, cold and soaked to the bone on shore.

Finding he could stand, he waded to join them and grudgingly accepted Lucas's hand out of the pool.

They all stood there in silence, shocked and shivering and giving each other frightened glances. It wasn't until several minutes passed that somebody, Atrin was too far gone to find out who, asked: "Where are we?"

His voice jolted the others out of their stupor, and slowly they craned their dripping necks to look around them.

The cavern was vast and the corners were lost in darkness. Glowstone runes were carved into the walls, accompanied by pictures. They cast a soft, if alien, light.

"Fascinating." Isabell said, gazing in awe at the waterfall that fell from the cavern high above into a small pool that failed to overflow.

"I'd heard about this kind of architecture, but the knowledge of how to develop it has long been lost to history." Melvin remarked. "An eternal waterfall…it's almost magical."

"There." Marie pointed to dark oak double-doors, polished gold knobs shining brightly in the dark. Atrin exchanged a glance with Marie. Marie exchanged a glance with Melvin. Marie and Melvin exchanged glances with Lucas and Lucas exchanged a glance with Atrin and Isabell.

"Well, only one way forward." Lucas drew his sword and, still dripping and shivering, started towards the doors.

Lucas placed a hand on the smooth knob and, finding it unlocked, threw open the doors. Atrin wasn't really sure what to expect on the other side, but whatever he was expecting was not there.

The companions walked cautiously into the homely and spacious room. The carpeted floor was thick and plush, and there were desks, tables and chairs of all shapes and sizes. Strewn over these were odds and ends of various bits, glowing red rods, maps of thousands of different regions, books piled high on top of each other.

Stranger still were the bits and pieces of unidentifiable stones and bottles of potions, some empty and some not. There were fine swords and armor thrown carelessly about, each one glowing brightly. Atrin started to reach for a lovely diamond blade but Lucas held out a hand and stopped him.

"Greetings, travelers." The disembodied voice was rough from lack of use and croaked in a way that did not sound remotely healthy. It caused each and every one of them to jump, and Isabell to let out a little _yelp_ of fright. "You must be very, very brave to have come this far… it's _too bad you won't be going any farther._ "

A glass of milk levitated off one of the messiest desks. Three of them screamed, Atrin couldn't tell who, and the other two readied their weapons.

There was an obnoxious slurping sound and the glass of milk emptied. Subsequently a hand appeared around the glass, and grew down the arm until an entire full-grown man sat there, leaning in his chair with his legs on the desk. He wiped the mustache off and turned his head towards them, grinning mischievously.

"Sorry." He croaked, coughed and cleared his throat. When he spoke again he sounded much smoother. "I don't get to do that often. Usually all my visitors are half-decayed and very, very hard to prank."

Stunned speechless, the entire cluster of people simply watched as he rose from his seat and dusted off his cyan shirt and dark blue jeans. Clearing the piles of junk with ease, the stranger nimbly leaped right in front of Lucas. Suddenly a diamond sword, nobody saw where it came from, was at their leader's neck.

"All jokes aside," The man growled, his brows furrowing; the almost unnaturally violet eyes set underneath them didn't help to ease his frightening appearance, "your purpose?"

For all the courage in the steady gaze that Lucas held with the stranger, Atrin could see he was trembling. "We came to seek your help." Lucas barely managed to spit out the words through his chattering teeth.

"Really." The odd man deadpanned. Looking over Lucas's shoulder, he surveyed the group with an expression akin to sympathy. None dared move for fear of what would happen to Lucas.

Withdrawing the blade, the stranger motion for them to come with him down a hallway that opened out of the wall with the flick of a lever. "Nevermind, talk comes later. You're dripping all over my map collection, so we'd best get you dried off."

They followed without a word.

Several hours later the weary band had washed and dried their clothes, combed their hair and were now being led by the man to an elaborate dining hall. A nether-brick chandelier studded with torches hung from the ceiling, and the carpet was replaced with a smooth white tile. Several chests and cabinets lined the walls around a simple dark oak table, already set with piles of meat and fruit. The entire group drooled at the smell.

"Eat up." The stranger offered, taking a seat for himself and digging in to a plate of steak. Atrin, though cautious at first, couldn't resist the smell and he ate voraciously along with the rest.


	4. Chapter 4

They did not talk until the food was gone and their host had cleared away the plates. In the content, soothing silence that followed Atrin closed his eyes and almost forgot why they had come.

"Sir," Lucas began. Atrin opened his eyes and glared at him for waking him up, but Lucas failed to notice.

"Just call me Steve." Steve had been rummaging through the chests lined against the wall, but walked back to stand behind his chair at the table.

"Steve." Lucas began again. "I… We, that is, have a question." Steve sighed and sat down, folding his hands on the table. He looked Lucas square in the eye, and spoke.

"I'm not killing the dragon."

"So you are the DragonSlayer?"

"Once, I was. Stupid name, I… we…. didn't even kill her."

"WELL WHY DIDN'T YOU KILL THE STUPID THING?" Atrin had been listening silently until now, and the entire table jumped at his booming voice. Steve looked taken aback, but then his expression hardened.

"I did my part. You would do well to learn your place, miner." Steve growled dangerously. Unfortunately, Atrin was beyond reason at this point.

"I know my place! My place is with my family, who I dug to bedrock for, only to watch them get killed! I trekked through the wilderness, following an old man and a stupid compass to avenge them, and I'm not going to let you sweep away my hard work!" Breathing heavily, Atrin sat back down, only realizing now that he had leaped from his chair in his rage. The others were watching him with a mixture of fear and awe, and Lucas was the first to speak.

"Atrin-" Steve held up a hand, and Lucas closed his mouth.

"Atrin, is it?" Steve said gently. "There were a lot of 'I's' in that statement."

"So?"

"Look around you." Atrin moved his gaze around the table. There was Lucas, with his short-cropped hair and camouflage vest. There was Isabell, wearing a white blouse and an architect's jacket, some pens still surviving in her pockets. There was Melvin, an old man in his lab coat, who was currently oblivious to the entire atmosphere, buried in old maps he had grabbed from the front room. There was Marie, her ginger hair still spilling from her cap and ready with all the redstone knowledge a person could possess. Last, there was himself, an angry miner with blonde hair and a vendetta against the dragon.

"I don't get it." Atrin stared back at Steve, sincerely dumbfounded. Lucas facepalmed, Marie and Isabell stared, and Melvin remained wrapped in his maps. Atrin was beginning to feel awkward; luckily, Steve was there to save the day.

"Atrin, do you know how old I am?"

"What, like, three centuries?"

Melvin interrupted. "Over two millennia." He stated, not looking up from his maps. Steve cast a delighted glance at the man before continuing.

"Atrin, the Dragon has done terrible things. That's a fact. It's a fact that all of us here have seen terrible things. That kind of wound never leaves you.

"But over time I've come to learn something. Death is not final. To die simply means you are ready to move on to other worlds. One day I will die, and I will rejoin my family in the next life. Now does this justify killing? Of course not; and we are meant to defend those we love.

"It can help, a little bit, though. My death is about two thousand years overdue; this isn't my time anymore. A new hero must ride up and confront the challenge now.

"I will not go and rid your yard of pests, but if you want to slay the dragon, you will not be alone." Steve made a wide gesture to the people seated at the table, and Atrin took a deep breath. Lucas, Isabell, Melvin and Marie all looked back at him.

"Let's do this."


End file.
